


One shots, drabbles and headcanons

by tellmealovestory



Series: Something More [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Marriage, Oblivious Reader, Protective Bucky Barnes, Smut, Wedding Planning, Weddings, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmealovestory/pseuds/tellmealovestory
Summary: One shots, drabbles and headcanons featuring our favorite idiots in love from Something More.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Something More [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644787
Comments: 25
Kudos: 67





	1. An Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> When Bucky takes you to his prom the night doesn't go as planned leading you on a nighttime adventure that neither of you will soon forget.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bucky takes you to his prom the night doesn't go as planned leading you on a nighttime adventure that neither of you will soon forget.

With your lips painted pink, your hair delicately pulled off your face with vintage pearl hair clips, your floor length blue dress fitting your body as if it was made especially for you you felt like a princess going to a fairytale ball. And when you stepped out of your bedroom, your high heels click clacking against the hardwood floor you felt even more like a princess when Bucky let out a low whistle beneath his breath.

Dressed in a tuxedo, his hair neatly trimmed, his blue eyes sparkling for the first time since his recent breakup the sight of him took your breath away. It wasn’t the first time you had seen him a tuxedo, but something about this was different. 

Maybe it was your destination, prom, one of the highlights of every high school students life. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, the way his eyes swept from your hair to your face to your dress before making their way back up to your shy smile. Or maybe it was the way he was standing almost nervously with a box, a beautiful corsage of white roses and blue carnations sitting gingerly on a satin pillow. 

“You look really handsome,” you blurted out.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” he breathed, his words sending your heart racing, heat flooding your cheeks and your head to dip down in shyness.

You knew he was only saying that because you had called him handsome, but it still meant something to you. Maybe because it was only the second time he had said it or maybe because his voice was filled with such sincerity that it had you momentarily forgetting your mom standing off to the side of the room snapping pictures.

“I always knew you’d go to prom together,” your mom gushed.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes you took a step towards Bucky, your feet a little shaky in the new high heels you had bought to go specifically with your dress. Ever since you and Bucky had hit puberty your mom had been making comments about how you two would be so great together. And it wasn’t just your mom. It was his mom too. You guys often joked that if you ever got married your moms would die of happiness.

Opening the box Bucky gently reached down for your wrist. Slipping the corsage on you beamed at him, touched that he had gone to the trouble of getting you one in the first place. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered again. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to get me a corsage.”

“Mm pretty sure I did,” he teased, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer when your mom lifted the camera back up to snap more pictures. “It’s what your date is supposed to do, right?”

“Right, but _technically_ this isn’t a date.”

“Don’t tell our moms that. My mom was ready to write out the wedding invitations when I told her I asked you.”

Biting your lip to hold back your laughter you tilted your head up to get a better look at him. “She must have _really_ hated Bethany...” your words trailed off, another flash of heat crawling its way up your neck. 

You weren’t sure what the protocol was here. He hadn’t gone in depth about his breakup, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t seen the physical signs of his pain. The way his eyes had dimmed with the loss of brightness, the way he had gone a little quieter, his shoulders tensed, knuckles clenched whenever he saw his ex in the hallway flirting with another guy. He had never gotten a definitive answer over why she had dumped him though he suspected it was another guy. “I shouldn’t have... I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“‘S okay.” Pressing his lips to the top of your head he gently squeezed your waist. “I think your moms got enough pictures, wanna get out of here?”

“ _Please_.”

The music switched from a loud, fast song that had the bolder students on the dance floor throwing their hands above their heads, bodies shimmying to the thrumming bass to something slower, a little sexier as couples strolled out to the dance floor clinging to one another as if their lives depended on it. Couples that included Bucky’s ex and her new beau. Twirling across the edge of the dance floor purposefully close to the table where you were sitting with him you noticed the way his teeth clenched, the way his knuckles turned white as he gripped the tabletop.

It was torture seeing him like this. They hadn’t dated long, a couple months maybe and you hadn’t known her that well, but he was your best friend and seeing him in pain had you in pain. Your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he couldn’t stop torturing himself by following the twirling couple with his gaze.

Slipping your sore feet back into your shoes you glanced around the hotel ballroom where prom was being held. From the colorful balloons that were tied to ribbons weighted down to the buffet of desserts, the giant bowl of punch, the chocolate fountain. The DJ that had set up his equipment in the corner of the ballroom, the tables that were scattered around the dance floor, some crowded with groups of students snapping pictures, laughing, making memories, to the couples who were sharing kisses and forbidden touches. 

An hour into the night and prom wasn’t anything like you had expected it to be. You and Bucky had shared a few dances, a couple cups of punch, but try as you might to keep his spirits up, his attention elsewhere, his gaze kept flickering back to his ex and her date. There was still time to turn this night around, to lift his spirits and that was exactly what you planned on doing.

Reaching for your clutch that sat on the table you stood up, holding your hand out to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“You really gotta ask that?” Taking your outreached hand he got up from his chair trailing after you as you led the way out of the hotel ballroom and onto the nighttime streets of New York.

Pursing your lips to the side you glanced to the right, to the left before deciding to take the path to the right. His hand was still holding tight to yours as you weaved your way through the after dinner crowds and the night tourists. 

“You gonna tell me where you’re taking me or am I supposed to guess?”

“ _We_ are going on an adventure. Unless you want to head back?” You asked, doubt lacing your words as your feet came to a standstill. Ignoring the people who pushed past you, the car horns honking, the obnoxious people talking too loudly on their phones you stared up at him wondering if you had made the right choice in dragging him away.

A slow smile curled his lips up and that was all the confirmation you needed to know you had made the right call.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just...” Chewing on your lower lip you lifted your shoulder in a half shrug. “It didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself back there and I _really_ want a piece of cheesecake... with cherries on top so I thought we could go on an adventure instead and find the best piece of dessert in the city.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, simply stood on the crowded sidewalk, his hand holding yours, his eyes boring into yours. “And you’re okay with leaving?” He asked slowly. Guilt gnawed at his chest. After all he was the one who had asked you to prom and you guys had stayed an hour, an hour that he had spent most of moping over his ex. It wasn’t how he had envisioned the night going.

“Of course,” you said. Squeezing his hand you gave him a small smile. “It was just a dance, Bucky. Now come on. _I’m hungry_.”

  
“What’ll it be?” The waitress asked. Snapping her gum she stared out the window, her expression seeming to suggest she’d rather be anywhere than here.

“A piece of chocolate cake, cheesecake with extra cherries and whip cream on the side, apple pie and... a hot fudge sundae?” Bucky asked, his eyes flicking up from the menu to yours making sure he got everything correct.

“You realize with all this food we’ll be full by the time we leave, right?” He asked once your waitress left.

“No offense, but I’ve seen you eat eat more in one sitting,” you teased. “We can’t award a restaurant best dessert if we only try one thing on the menu.”

“Spent a lot of time thinking about this, huh?”

“No.” Laughing you watched as your waitress set your desserts down on the table in front of you. Unwrapping your silverware you picked up your fork slicing it through the thick, creamy cheesecake. “It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I figured if we went home that’d lead to too many questions from our parents and I really _was_ hungry.” Chewing thoughtfully you let out a moan at the rich texture of the cheesecake, the sweetness of the cherries, the coolness of the whip cream. Pushing your plate towards him you offered him a taste. “Besides you never turn down food.”

Swapped plates, muffled moans, clinks of silverware, laughter filling the space. It may not have been a decked out ballroom and you may have felt a little out of place in your fancy dress, but in a lot of ways this was better getting to see him smile, getting to hear him laugh again. Yeah, this was definitely better.

Three restaurants later you were full, over caffeinated and two seconds away from ripping your shoes off and taking your chances on the dirty sidewalks with bare feet. Clearly when you had suggested this idea to Bucky to walk around and find the best dessert you hadn’t thought about your new high heels or the blisters that would be covering your feet.

“Wait,” you whined. Leaning against the cool brick of a building you slipped your shoes off. Leaning down to massage your blistered feet you hissed at the pain that shot through you. 

“Jesus, Y/N,” he murmured, catching sight of your feet.

“I know,” you whined again. “I just need a minute.”

The next diner you had settled on was only a couple blocks away, not worth it for you to get a cab, but that didn’t stop Bucky from looking around for one. 

“Alright, come on, cupcake.” Picking up your shoes he kneeled down on the dirty sidewalk.

Your face broke out into a smile, but you didn’t move from your spot against the wall. “You said you weren’t going to call me that anymore,” you grumbled. Still not making a move forward you sighed when he turned his head to the side gauging your reaction. “I don’t wanna hurt you. We’re not kids anymore, Bucky.”

“What would you prefer I call you?” He teased. “C’mon you’re not gonna hurt me, Y/N. You really wanna walk another four blocks in those shoes? Or risk getting glass in your feet if you go barefoot?”

Chewing on your lip you weighed your options and his words. Hesitantly pushing off the brick wall you took a tentative step towards him. Looping your arms around his neck he reached back slipping his hands beneath your legs. Giggling as he stood up you could only imagine what you two looked like right now. Him holding your shoes as he gave you a piggyback ride down the streets of New York on a Saturday night each of you dressed to the nines.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you said again. Growing up he had spent _hours_ giving you piggyback rides. Sometimes the journey was as short as carrying you from one room to another. Other times it was far longer, blocks at a time, through Central Park, through Coney Island.

“I want to, _cupcake_.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You laughed. “You promised you weren’t gonna call me that anymore!”

“But it’s cute,” he teased, a smirk growing on his face when he listened to you groan. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop calling you that, but ‘m not getting rid of those pictures. Gonna show them to your future husband.”

“ _Bucky_! You know what I regret asking you to that wedding,” you grumbled. 

After your parents had gotten divorced when you were a kid it hadn’t taken long for your father to get remarried to a woman whose age was closer to that of an older sister than to a stepmother. In an attempt to get to know you better, to get you on her side she had asked you to be a bridesmaid. The dress she chose had been horrible. Puffy, bell sleeves, pepto bismol pink, full skirt that made it nearly impossible to sit down without feeling like you were a flotation device better suited to the water than a wedding. 

The first time Bucky saw you in the dress he had said you resembled a cupcake once he had managed to stop laughing at your misery. Your mom had rightfully refused to go to the wedding so you had taken Bucky where he had spent the whole time alternating between calling you cupcake and making fun of you. The nickname had unfortunately stuck around like the horrible pictures he had taken of you.

“No you don’t,” he teased. “Admit it you had fun. Trying to sit down in that dress. Remember when you tried to dance and you kept hitting the other guests?”

“You’re an asshole,” you laughed. “And just for that when _you_ get married I plan on making a toast filled with your most embarrassing moments.”

“You sure you wanna do that, _cupcake_?”

“I thought you said you were done calling me that?”

“What do you want me to call you instead?” Reaching the diner he gently set you back on the ground. Stumbling he reached out for your arm steadying you with a warm smile that melted your heart. Handing you back your shoes you slipped them on hissing when your blisters rubbed against the material. “Gonna be okay?”

“Of course,” you murmured. Pulling open the door to the diner you were assaulted by the thick smoke from cigarettes and the dimmed interior. Stepping inside felt like stepping into the opening scenes of a horror movie as the group of men sitting around the counter all turned around to stare at you and Bucky. Orange tipped cigarettes dangled from lips, their conversation hushed, their stares a little too intense. A pretty, petite blonde with a slicked back ponytail that swung with every motion of her head gestured you to sit wherever. The diner was tiny, a counter that took up most of the inside, a couple of chairs and tables and a few booths that lined the walls.

Your gut was telling you to turn around and leave, but you were rooted to the spot. Your lips were parted, your eyes wide as you struggled to focus your attention anywhere else but at the men still leering at you and Bucky.

Attuned to the nervousness that was radiating from your body Bucky reached down for your hand, his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, his voice quiet so only you would hear he whispered, “C’mon, let’s find someplace else.”

Biting your lip you sighed torn between following your gut instinct and the thought of sitting down for a little while to rest your feet. The place may have been a dive, the patrons creepy, but the desserts that lined the case by the door looked tempting. _Too tempting._ Sighing again you gave a subtle shake of your head. “Five minutes? My feet really hurt.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, simply gripped your hand tighter in his as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to shield you from the patrons at the counter. Guiding you to a booth near the back of the dingy diner not nearly far enough away from prying eyes he waited as you slid in before sliding in after you. 

“Five minutes, Y/N and then we’re leaving,” he stated firmly.

“Five minutes and a piece of dessert and _then_ we can leave. We can’t just not order anything, Bucky.” Pulling out a menu from behind the metal napkin dispenser you flipped to the back page your eyes scanning over the short list of desserts. “What looks good?”

“I don’t care.”

“What is going on with you right now?”

“Nothing.”

“Bucky...”

“What can I get you?” The waiter interrupted. Looking a couple years older than Bucky he had a full beard, dark brown eyes that left you shifting uncomfortably in Bucky’s strong embrace and a curly mop of light brown hair. In a different situation you might have found him attractive, but right now you just found him creepy. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath and what you thought might have been what smelled like whiskey from across the booth. You wondered how much a person had to ingest for you to be able to smell it from a distance. 

Mentally kicking yourself for not listening to your gut instincts earlier your heart raced as you squeezed Bucky’s hand silently asking him to say something, to say anything. 

“A piece of pie I don’t care what kind.”

Breathing a sigh of relief when he left you squeezed his hand again waiting until he turned his attention back to you. His gaze was full of concern, his jaw clenched tightly causing you to frown. Tentatively lifting your hand up to his cheek you asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you now? I know they’re a little creepy, but... I mean I’m sure they’re harmless...”

“They’ve been staring at you since we walked in,” he growled. “I don’t trust them.”

“I’m sure they’re harmless,” you tried again.

The plate with your pie was slid across the table startling both of you. Clamping your lips shut you stared down at the cherries that oozed out from the pie staining the plate red. 

“Anything else?”

You could feel the waiter staring and you wondered why he had taken your order instead of the petite blonde waitress. A shiver ran through you and you wondered if he even worked here or if he belonged to the motley crew that sat at the counter. Maybe you had spent too many Saturday nights watching horror movies with Bucky or maybe your gut was trying to tell you something as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. The overwhelming urge to _run_ flooded through you and when Bucky grunted out a no you waited with bated breath until the waiter left.

“I think we should leave,” you whispered, your voice shaking with each uttered word. It didn’t matter that the pie you had ordered sat uneaten on the table in front of you or that it was your idea to stay in the first place. Each second that you lingered in this place left you feeling more and more unsettled. 

Slipping his suit jacket off he draped it over your shoulders. “Stay close to me,” he commanded. Kissing your forehead he slid out of the booth holding his hand out to you as he threw some bills on the table. Pulling you close to him he tucked you into his side as he strode out of the diner.

It was difficult to keep up with his frantic pace in your heels and blistered feet, but that didn’t stop him from pulling you along. Once outside in the cool crisp early morning air his pace still didn’t slow down despite your protests. 

Two long blocks away you finally untangled your hand from his as you came to a stop. “W-wait,” you panted. Kicking your shoes off you hissed when your sore feet hit the cold concrete. “I think we’re safe.” Whether it was all the sugar you had ingested, the lows of prom, the highs at the beginning of your adventure, the piggyback ride or the shared creepiness of the last diner you let out a giggle which quickly turned into a laugh which turned into you gasping for breath as tears rolled down your cheeks and your body shook.

Crossing his arms over his chest Bucky stared at you. Wide blue eyes, mouth hanging open it took him longer to find the amusement in the situation, but when he did it hit him like a freight train. A snort followed by raucous laughter that filled the near empty street. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there barefoot on the cold cement doubled over laughing until your stomach hurt and you swore your makeup had been ruined. His suit jacket was still slung over your shoulders keeping you warm. Inhaling the scent that clung to his jacket you swiped the tears and mascara that stained your cheeks. Standing up you took one look at him, the way his eyes crinkled up, the way tears were staining his own cheeks, the way his white dress shirt was starting to wrinkle and that was all it took, one look and you were doubled over laughing again.

It was the kind of laughter that made your stomach clench, that made you forget about what you were laughing at in the first place, the kind that could be set off by the most mundane thing like a taxi slowly creeping down a deserted street, someone opening their window and yelling at you to shut the fuck up, the kind that made an already memorable night even more so.

“That really happened, right? It wasn’t some... imagined sugar high mirage?” You asked, laughter still wracking your body.

“Yeah, that really happened, cupcake,” he sighed. Taking a step closer to you he cupped your face in his warm hands. “You okay?”

His touch was gentle, his face full of concern and you weren’t sure if he was referring to the ache in your stomach from laughing, your sore feet or what had taken place back there. Pulling your lip between your teeth you stared up at him. Not trusting yourself to speak without laughing again you gave a quick nod of your head. 

“I’d be better if you stopped calling me cupcake,” you grumbled, resting your head on his chest.

“You never told me what you wanted me to call you.”

“Because we ended up in the diner from hell!”

This time your laughter was muffled against his chest and when a fresh round of tears spilled from your eyes instead of staining your cheeks they stained his crisp white shirt. His chest rumbled beneath your cheek, his own hearty laughter filling you with a warmth.

  
“Oh! What about lemon meringue pie?”

“You want me to call you lemon meringue pie? Dunno how that’s better than cupcake. Y’know nicknames are supposed to be short, but if that’s what you want.”

“You’re an idiot, Bucky,” you teased. 

Twenty minutes after your dual laugh attack on the sidewalk you had found another diner. This one with bright lights, retro uniforms, a tired waitress who appeared to be in her late twenties and a few more patrons in the place. When you had walked in nobody had paid you any attention. Already it was a better choice than the last one.

“Ouch. Your words hurt me, _lemon meringue pie_.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Okay, okay, what about sweetie? Better?”

Wrinkling your nose in distaste you shook your head as your waitress appeared to take your order. Returning in a couple of minutes with a tray of lemon meringue pie, double chocolate cheesecake and a brownie sundae she set everything down on the table.

Digging into the cheesecake you took a large bite chewing and swallowing before you said, “Definitely not. That’s what our moms call us. Try again.”

“Sweetheart?”

It was close to sweetie, but different enough that when he called you sweetheart you were surprised at the warmth that flooded through you, at the heat that crawled it’s way up your neck. Your fork clanked against the plate when you accidentally dropped it and you struggled to compose yourself. Peeking up at him through your lashes you were mortified at the way he was smirking at you, his own fork halfway to his mouth. Sometimes you _hated_ how well he could read you.

“Yeah, I think you like that name, _sweetheart_ ,” he murmured, voice husky.

You wanted to tell him to shove it, but hearing it the second time, hearing that tone of voice it rendered you speechless. Nobody had ever called you sweetheart before and it sounded so _alluring_ coming out of his plump lips. 

“You gonna say anything?” He teased after a silence that stretched on for several minutes. That infuriating smirk was still on his face when you found the courage to finally look at him. 

Ignoring him you dug your fork into the pie. Bringing the citrus meringue to your lips you sighed in content. “I want another nickname because you’re a jerk.”

“Sugar?”

“Mm no.”

“Honey?”

That same warmth you felt when he called you sweetheart flooded through you again at the new name. Nicknames weren’t anything new for you, he’d been using them on you since you were kids, but something about _sweetheart_ and _honey_ was different this time. 

Again, you didn’t trust yourself to speak, but you didn’t need to. He could tell by the way you were staring at the pie as if it was the most interesting thing in the world that he was on to something.

“Honey, huh?”

You could _hear_ the smirk in his voice. Balling up your napkin you threw it at him laughing when it bounced off his forehead and landed in his lap.

“That’s real mature there, _sweetheart_.” 

“Shut up,” you laughed. Setting your fork down next to the brownie you pushed the half eaten plate towards Bucky’s direction. Leaning back against the vinyl booth you sighed in content. Full, warm, _happy_ you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so carefree. 

And you weren’t the only one. Following your lead Bucky leaned back against the booth, pushing the plates to the edge of the table he leveled his gaze on you. For the first time since his breakup you could see the twinkle returning to his eyes, could hear that easy, carefree laughter that you loved so much. You knew it wasn’t going to happen overnight, but it was nice to see him returning to his pre-heartbreak self.

By the time you paid the bill, left a tip and headed back outside you were taken aback to see the streets beginning to fill up with people, even more surprised to see the first rays of the sunrise all golden yellow and burnt orange promising the start of a new day. It had been hours since you had pulled him away from prom, hours since you had first started this spur of the moment adventure, but it had felt like only minutes had passed. 

“C’mon, princess,” Bucky said, kneeling down on the cool cement once you kicked your shoes off. “One last ride before I take you home.”

“Uh uh. You’re _also_ not allowed to call me princess anymore,” you said. Looping your arms around his neck your heart skipped a beat when he slipped his hands beneath your legs. “You sure I’m not hurting you?”

“What’s wrong with princess? Relax, I’ve got you, honey.”

One of your favorite things about New York was how people didn’t care. Nobody gave you or Bucky a second look as he gave you a piggyback ride through the streets in the early morning hours. 

“Nothing, but we’re not kids anymore, Bucky. Besides I like the new nicknames better.”

“I’ve noticed,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

  
Arriving outside your moms apartment building you told Bucky he could let you down, but he refused, saying he wouldn’t be a gentleman if let you down now. While you were still worried about hurting him he brushed aside your concerns only letting you down once you were standing outside your apartment door. 

It was a silly thought, but you couldn’t help feeling like this was the end of a date with the way he leaned against your door staring down at you. Handing you back your shoes you thanked him.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N. I needed this.”

“It was nothing,” you teased with a playful shrug of your shoulder.

“It was though.” Running a hand through his short cropped hair he shot you a sheepish smile. “It really meant somethin’ to me.”

“You’re my best friend, Bucky and... I just wanted to see you happy even if it was only for a night.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he whispered, leaning down. 

Your body froze thinking he was about to kiss you and though it wouldn’t have been the first time you guys had kissed you didn’t want to be his rebound.

His breath smelled like chocolate as it fanned against your lips, your eyes fluttered shut at the closeness.

“ _Princess cupcake_.”

Your eyes flew open at those two words and as he leaned back that infuriating smirk on his face you reached out to smack his chest.

“You jerk!” You yelled, momentarily forgetting that it was still early on a Sunday morning and your neighbors might have been trying to sleep.

His laughter filled the hallway and when he leaned down again his lips lingering against the corner of your mouth so close that if you tilted your head just an inch his mouth would be on yours you forgot about the nicknames, about the murder diner, about your sore feet. All you could think about, focus on was the way his lips were still pressed against the corner of your mouth.

“Tonight really did mean a lot to me. So thank you.” Pulling his lips away he shot you a bright smile before telling you goodnight one more time and turning to walk down the hallway.

“Wait! You forgot your jacket,” you called out. 

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyways, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	2. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have a conversation about trying some new things in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 1 of what looks like right now 3 parts. 
> 
> If you sent in a request for this series rest assured I am working on them! I tend to be a slow writer most of the time and since this series is so near and dear to my heart like a lot of people I want to take my time and make sure I give you guys the best that I can give!

Chewing on your lower lip you glanced over at the clock checking how much time you had before Bucky came home. Typing quickly into the search bar of your computer your eyes widened at the amount of websites that popped up in answer. Not sure where to start you clicked on the first link before quickly closing out of it and trying the next one. 

When you had thought of doing some research on your own you had no idea how daunting a task it would be. Reaching for the wine glass that sat next to you on the kitchen table you took a small sip, a thrill flowing through you when you found a site that held promise. 

Engrossed in the words on the screen you didn’t hear the apartment door open nor did you hear him calling out for you. It was only when a shadow fell over the screen, when you felt his warm breath against your temple did you realize your mistake. Slamming the computer shut you whirled around to face him.

“What are you doing?” You yelped. Heat of embarrassment at getting caught burned your cheeks. Jumping up from the chair you knocked your wine glass over, red liquid staining the table, but it was the least of your worries.

He didn’t look mad which was a relief. No, he definitely wasn’t mad, amused, yes. An infuriating smirk curled his lips up as he slipped out of his jacket draping it over the chair you had jumped from.

“Think the better question is what are _you_ doing, sweetheart?”

_Oh, fuck._

His voice was smooth, a little husky and that stupid smirk of his widened ever so slightly letting you know he had seen _exactly_ what you had been looking at.

The thought of lying crossed your mind, but there wasn’t a point. Ignoring the spilled wine that would leave the table sticky you struggled with how to explain this. The original plan had been to do some research on your own before searching him out, but that obviously wasn’t going to work now.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for another hour.”

“Got off early and wanted to surprise you, but looks like you beat me to it.”

The smirk, the mirth in his voice, the twinkle in his eyes left you unsure if you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole or if you wanted to kiss him.

“Still waitin’ for that explanation,” he teased.

Yeah, you definitely wanted the floor to swallow you. Forgetting about the spilled wine you leaned back against the table, your eyes dropping to the floor as you struggled to gather your racing thoughts.

Sensing your discomfort Bucky took a step forward. You could still smell the cleanness of the soap he used from his morning shower. His grip was firm yet loving when he grasped your chin tilting your head up and forcing you to look at him. Tender eyes met yours and you could feel yourself melting beneath his steady gaze.

“Talk to me,” he whispered. Dipping his head down he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, drawn out, his lips working against yours so perfectly if it wasn’t for his grip on your chin you swore to god you’d have melted straight to the floor.

“Okay,” you sighed upon breaking the kiss. “Remember last week when I had my period and I was in a lot of pain from the cramps and you said we should period sex because it would make me feel better?”

“Yeah, you said no pretty quickly,” he teased. “You change your mind?”

“Definitely not,” you said, wrinkling your nose in distaste. Having your period was a miserable experience each month that brought on bloating, cramping and a wild range of mood swings and the last thing you ever felt was attractive. “But it got me curious about um... other things that I thought we could maybe explore?”

It was like watching a summer storm roll in, all black clouds and a heaviness in the air the way his eyes darkened right before you. Releasing his grip on your chin he slid his hand down to your waist and in a dizzying array of speed that left you breathless and giggling nervously he spun you around so you were facing the table covered with spilled wine and your laptop. His arm wrapped securely around your middle holding you flush to his chest. Leaning your head back against his shoulder your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his beard tickling the side of your burning cheek. 

“It’s always the quiet ones that are the kinkiest,” he teased.

“ _Bucky_!” Laughing you squirmed in his arms attempting to escape, but he was having no part of it. Tightening his grip around you he reached forward with his free hand opening your laptop and bringing up the page you had tried to hide from him.

“ _Y/N._ ” Nuzzling his face in your neck he loosened his grip when he felt you begin to relax in his arms. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Show me what you were interested in. You know I only wanna make you feel good, honey.” Tilting the screen back so you both could see it better he peppered your neck with lazy kisses. “Gonna show me?”

Biting down hard on your lip to hold back your growing moans you were a helpless mess in his arms and you knew he knew. Your eyes were slow to open and when they did embarrassment washed over you seeing the website out in the open for both of you to see. Slowly scanning down the list you wanted to bury your head in his chest, wanted to find a time machine and go back in time and avoid him walking in on you. You knew it was silly that after over a year together you still found it difficult to tell him what you wanted or needed sexually.

Truth be told you weren’t quite sure _what_ you were interested in. Sure, there had been a few things that had caught your eye, that had you clenching your thighs together at the thought of you and Bucky trying them, but the list also made you aware of how inexperienced you were compared to him. It was a silly thought, a ridiculous doubt when you _knew_ he didn’t care about that, but it still gnawed at you.

“I... um... that one,” you said, pointing at a random item.

“Absolutely not,” he ground out, all hot breath against your skin and arm tightening around your middle in a gesture that could only be called possessive. 

Pouting, a reply sat on the tip of your tongue until your gaze focused on what you had pointed at. “I thought having a threesome was every guys fantasy?”

“‘M not sharing you with some other guy, Y/N.”

“Who said anything about it being with another guy, Bucky?” You purred, turning in his arms to face him. It was almost comical the way his jaw was clenched, the way his eyes were boring into yours pleading with you to tell him you were joking. 

“Baby,” he groaned and that was all it took for your composure to crumble and your giggles to fill the kitchen and drift through his ears. With narrowed eyes, cool fingers dipping below your shirt and tickling your side you swatted at his shoulder half heartedly. “You think that was funny?”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” you said, laughter wracking your body. It was the first time you felt fully relaxed since he had interrupted your research. Cupping his cheek you leaned up to press your lips to his. “You have nothing to worry about I don’t want to have a threesome. I know you have problems sharing,” you teased.

“I can share,” he scoffed. “Remember when we went out last weekend and I shared that chocolate cake with you? And what about all my sweatshirts I share with you, huh? I can share, sweetheart, but ‘m not fucking sharing you.” His fingers dug into your sides pulling you closer and when he kissed you it nearly took your breath away with the passion and force he put into it. Nipping at your bottom lip he urged, “Pick something else for me.”

Ignoring his words you wrapped your arm around his shoulder pulling him even closer so there was no distance between your bodies. Lips worked in perfect harmony the way they only do when two people know each other inside and out. The delicious moans he let out against your growing swollen lips left you wanting to reach down for his hand, drag him into your bedroom and forget about this list for a little while, but he had other ideas as he broke the kiss and gently turned you around so you were facing the computer again.

“Y’know having a threesome isn’t every guys fantasy,” he murmured after a couple minutes of silence. 

Staring at the computer screen the words swam in front of your eyes, your mind still focused on the kiss that it took you an extra beat to understand what he was referring to. “Then what’s yours?”

“Not sure you deserve to hear it after that little joke you played,” he teased. “Now stop stalling and pick something else.”

Taking your time you scanned through each item on the list twice before shakily reaching your finger up and pointing at one that had caught your eye earlier. “That one?” You hated the way your voice shook, the way you sounded so unsure, but like every time in your life when you needed his reassurance he was right there, pressing his lips to the side of your head, cooing words of encouragement, urging you on. 

“What else?”

“That one too,” you whispered. “And maybe sometime that one?”

“Yeah? Keep goin’, honey.” 

“Aren’t you going to pick anything?”

“Nope. This is about you figuring what you like.”

Frowning you turned in his arms again so you were facing him. Running your hands up and down his chest you pursed your lips to the side. “But what about what _you_ like? This should be about both of us, Bucky.” Toying with the buttons on his crisp button down shirt you glanced up at him through your lashes. 

“I don’t need a list I already know what I like,” he murmured, voice husky and low as he dipped his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. 

Kissing him back a part of you was relieved to have the attention off of you, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook. Adamant that he choose something too you pulled back. “Tell me,” you pouted. “And don’t say being in control because I already know how much you like that.”

Pressing his mouth to the shell of your ear his beard tickled your skin, his whispered words making your knees grow weak, your eyes to snap shut, your underwear to grow damp with need. You had no way of knowing when you asked him to tell you how _filthy_ his thoughts could be. Had no way of knowing how much your body would _crave_ those filthy thoughts.

“ _Bucky_ ,” you whispered breathlessly when he finished speaking. Your eyes were full of lust and glazed over when they flew open and you were ashamed to admit at how much you needed him right now. Squeezing your thighs together you whined forgetting about your earlier embarrassment.

“Too much?” 

“N-no keep going.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice and as he continued to whisper his desires in your ear you swore you could hear the smile in his voice. “You up for trying something new?” He asked, lips curled up into a smirk, eyes dancing between your own and your lips, fingers ghosting along your side.

Again, you didn’t know how he expected you to answer when your legs felt like jello and the only things running through your mind were the whispered words he had blessed you with. Licking your lips you uncurled your hands from his now wrinkled shirt before giving a slow nod of your head. “Yes,” you blurted out upon finding your voice. Reaching down for his hand you linked your fingers together, giving him a gentle tug as you led the way to your bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. Something New part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky experiment with trying new things in the bedroom.

The conversation had been lengthy if a bit awkward in the beginning, but Bucky had been the definition of patient answering each of your questions, explaining in great detail what would happen that by the time you got back to your apartment and your dress was pooled around your feet, his hand extended outward the only thing you felt was excitement bubbling in your stomach.

Accepting his outstretched hand you giggled when he pulled you to his chest. Your palms rested on his button down shirt, your eyes staring up at his lovingly, your pearly white teeth pulling on your lipstick painted lower lip. 

There was an electricity that crackled in the air above you, that flew through your veins at this new step in your relationship. His fingers stroked down your back, your hip, each light touch lighting your skin on fire. He was quiet and you couldn't be certain if that was part of this or if he was waiting for you to say something first. Swallowing your arched into his touch when his fingertips slid beneath the band of your bra. He still didn't say anything, didn't ask you if this was okay, but the look in his eyes said everything. A small nod of your head and his fingers were expertly undoing the snaps of your bra, the straps falling down your arms before the material fluttered to the floor. 

The cool air in your room had your nipples hardening and as you stepped closer to his chest the stiff material of his shirt rubbed against your sensitive buds causing you to hiss. His fingers continued their descent of exploring the newly exposed skin of your back before landing on your ass. Another giggle, a tilt of your head upwards and a gasp was spilling from your lips at the _fire_ that was in his eyes. You had never seen him look this hungry before and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a turn on.

"Doin' okay?" It was the first words that had been spoken since coming home. 

Not trusting yourself to speak you gave another small nod of your head, another giggle falling from your lips when he squeezed your ass.

"Good." His mouth was pressed to your temple, his breath warm smelling sweet like the mints you had each shared after dinner. "On the bed. Hands above your head." 

Following his instructions your gaze never wavered from his. A man on a mission he stalked through the room collecting items in his hand. You wanted to ask him what all of that was for, but you couldn't find the words when he kneeled next to you, the bed dipping beneath his weight. His touch was light, delicate even as he gently bound your wrists with the ties to your headboard. Tugging at the restraints you frowned when you felt rather than saw how tight he had you. 

"How's that feel?"

Another tug, another frown. "I... I don't know. Good I guess? I haven't exactly done this before," you rambled, the nerves that had evaded you earlier making an appearance in your voice, in your body. 

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed. His fingertips brushed your heated cheek, dipping down your neck, your throat, through the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, before landing on your hip, his large hand splaying out. Positioning his body so he was laying next to you he kissed you. "We're gonna take this slow, okay? Anytime this gets to be too much or you wanna stop all you gotta do is say something, yeah?" Squeezing your hip he pressed a kiss behind your ear, his lips trailing lower down to the sensitive parts of your neck that never failed to make you melt into his body.

"Wait!" You gasped. And true to his words he stopped. Pulling his lips away he stared down at you, concern etched onto his face and you felt silly for putting a pause on this when you had barely started. "I just um... you're not... getting undressed too?" Left in only your underwear you felt entirely too underdressed while he remained in his pants and his shirt, the stiff fabric rubbing against your overheated and sensitive skin.

The concern on his face etched its way into amusement, his lips quirking up into a smirk, his eyebrow arching, the fingers on your hip stroking downwards causing you to shiver. The fire dancing in his eyes earlier when he had removed your bra never left, only seeming to burn brighter, burn darker now that he had you tied up.

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart." His words left no room for argument, but a reply sat dangerously on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to argue, even parted your lips to do so, but one look from him, the way he subtly shook his head no, the way his jaw clenched had you clamping your lips shut, though a tiny devious part of you wanted to disobey him if only to see what he would do. "Good girl."

Bucky called you a lot of in things in the bedroom, but never _good girl_ and those two words had you mewling into his touch as his head dipped back down, his lips and teeth and tongue attacking your neck with a fervor that left you wondering where this Bucky had been kept hidden. 

Throughout your time together both when you were pretending you could be friends with benefits and when you had moved into a relationship he had always held some kind of control when being intimate from pinning your hands above your head to gently suggesting a new position, but in those times you were still always in charge. 

He was nothing if not careful to make sure that you were always comfortable, but this, having him tie you up was something new. It was the first time that he was completely in control and the action required a certain amount of trust which you had been prepared for. What you hadn't been prepared for was the way he subtly changed. 

Things had always been passionate between you. His kisses had always left you breathless and desperate for more. His touches always left you satisfied and sweaty. His gentle questions of was this okay always left your heart bursting and swelling with love for the dark haired man you had given yourself to. 

But being tied up seemed to bring something forth in him, a new level of passion that had your head spinning, your heart racing, your body shaking and all he had done was leave a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck and to your breasts. His voice seemed deeper, his kisses more forceful, his touches and movements more confident. The lust and fire in his eyes seemed darker. Sure, in all aspects he was still your Bucky, but when he had gently suggested this after going over the list you had found online you had never once expected him to be so... _sexy_ when in full control. You had never expected yourself to be enjoying this so much either. 

"Good girl, huh?" His voice was full of mirth, his lips curved up into a smile, his eyes teasing as he glanced up at you before wrapping his lips firmly around your hardened nipple and giving a harsh suck. 

It was so hard to concentrate on the words spewing from his lips when all you could think about was if he didn't touch you, _really touch_ you and soon you were going to combust. 

Pulling his lips away from your breast his hand squeezed your hip hard enough to get your attention. Whining low in the back of your throat you stared up at him, lipstick smeared on your lips, sweat lining your forehead, hair already a mess. You wanted to ask him why he stopped, what the squeeze was for, but the way he was looking at you, _god_ the way he was looking at you left you speechless. 

Satisfied that he had your undivided attention he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, his hand dipping between your thighs, gently parting them as his knuckles brushed across your soaked underwear. "Answer me." Again, that tone that left no room for argument. Opening and closing your mouth you stared up at him wordlessly unsure _how_ to answer him. Squirming beneath his gaze, tugging at the restraints you huffed a sigh when he kept his gaze level with you. 

"You like when I call you that?" His tone was softer now, his hand curling around the top of your underwear as his other hand gently stroked your heated cheek. 

Your brain scrambled to search for an acceptable answer that was something more than _I don't know_. Chewing on your lip felt the pad of this thumb brush across your lower lip further smearing your lipstick, but you found you didn't care when he slowly pushed his thumb past your lips. Much like the first time you guys had hooked up your body acted on instinct, your tongue swirling around the digit, your teeth gently grazing over the skin. When he groaned deep and low in his throat, your name falling from those plump lips you took it as a good sign, you even hoped that this meant you were off the hook for answering his question, but you weren't so lucky. 

Pulling his thumb back with an audible pop he stared down at you with half lidded eyes. "When I ask you somethin' I expect you to answer," he said slowly, tone firm.

With wide eyes, shaky breaths, you whispered, "I-I don't know. No one's ever... I mean... I haven't..." You felt stupid for being unable to answer his simple question, but he saved you by kissing you softly.

"I think you like it." Another kiss, his hand slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. Arching your hips you allowed your eyes to flutter closed when he kissed you again, deeper and longer this time distracting you from being the only one nude. "I think you like it. _A lot_." His teeth pulled at your lip, his fingers dancing up the inside of your thighs inching ever closer to where you needed him most. "And that's what this was about, right? Finding out what you like." His lips moved to the corner of your mouth, your jaw. Lower, lower, lower, until they were being dragged between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach.

You weren't sure if you were supposed to answer that or not, so you didn't. Tugging on the restraints you arched your back, your head lolling to the side in pleasure when his middle finger slipped past your soaking folds. "Bucky," you panted.

"That feel good?" He asked, his own groan falling soon afterwards. 

By now you knew the rules, he asked you a question and he expected an answer, but you weren't sure _how_ you were supposed to answer him when a second finger was added, his thumb circling over your clit in such light strokes it had your hips bucking up searching for more. "Yes." 

"Yeah?" Another groan, another finger. "Fuck, honey don't think you've ever been this wet before. This all for me?" 

You wanted to tell him to stop asking you questions, wanted to _beg_ him to continue sliding his fingers through your wet heat, wanted to _beg_ him to get undressed already, but your mind was wiped blank at the pleasure he was providing you with. But too soon his fingers were slipping out of you leaving you restless and unfulfilled. Your eyes flew open, anger and disappointment clouding them, your mouth hung open, a string of curse words ready to be spewed at him.

"Baby," he murmured disappointed and somehow that was worse than him stopping. "What did I tell you about answering me?" His fingers stroked the insides of your thigh, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough. Lifting his head his lips were an inch away from yours, breath mixing, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough. 

"Bucky... _please_ ," you begged uselessly. You knew what he needed, but you _couldn’t_ answer him. Bucking your hips up you narrowed your eyes when he chuckled, his fingers still dancing along your thighs. You wanted to snap at him, tell him it wasn’t funny, but his fingers were curling around your jaw in a firm grasp.

“Answer. The. Question.” 

Chest heaving, eyes wild, mind reeling you blurted out a string of what you hoped were sensible words that would appeal to his demands. “For you. A-always for you. Now _please, please pl_ -“

You weren’t sure if it was the fact you had finally answered him, your pathetic begging or the tears that were threatening to spill from his merciless teasing, but he finally, _finally_ continued what he had started by shoving two fingers back into your slickness. 

The relief was immediate. Stars bursted behind your eyes, a string of moans and gasps leaving your swollen and lipstick smeared mouth. And when his lips crashed down on yours in a filthy kiss you wanted to cry tears of joy this time at how _good_ everything felt.

“There we go,” he cooed. “Isn’t that better? All ya gotta do is answer me and I can make you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.” 

“B-better,” you repeated mindlessly, only half hearing the words he was saying. 

“Need you to do one more thing for me, baby, can you do that?” 

Whining you gasped out a yes as he dragged his lips between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach. Each drag of his lips felt like a fire was being lit beneath your skin. Each pull and thrust of his fingers felt like you had died and gone to heaven. At this point you swore you’d agree to anything he’d ask if it only meant he wouldn’t stop.

His fingers never stopped their pace only quickening as he dragged his lips down the insides of your thighs, again, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, his lips sucking a bruise on the inside of your right thigh. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he growled. 

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, barely gave you a chance to follow his directions before he was replacing his fingers with his tongue.

Licking a broad stripe against your folds you cried out, your eyes flying open for the _last_ thing you wanted was for him to stop.

The sight before you had you clenching around his tongue. 

It wasn’t unusual to stare into each other’s eyes during those first initial thrusts before the pleasure became too much and your eyes were rolling back. And it wasn’t unusual when you were riding him to lock eyes with him especially when he’d sit up and things were slow and sexy and intimate. And one of your favorite things was to stare up at him through your lashes when you were on your knees to see his head thrown back and his chest heaving all because of you.

But this... this was different you had never kept your eyes on him while his head was disappearing between your thighs. Despite the frequency with which he went down on you you still found it a little awkward, never quite getting use to the intimacy or the sheer pleasure of his tongue and his mouth. 

But that was exactly what you found yourself doing as he kitten licked your clit. Each gentle swipe of his tongue caused your body to squirm beneath his. Biting down hard on your lip you kept your eyes on his finding the situation erotic and overwhelming at the same time when he looked up at you, locking his eyes on yours. It was intimate and sexy and a _turn on_.

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” you whimpered, longing to tug on his hair when his lips wrapped around your clit giving it a hard suck.

It was so hard to keep your eyes on him, even harder when he slipped your legs over his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt adding to the onslaught of sensations washing over you. 

He had always been enthusiastic when going down on you, eating you out like a man starved, but tonight was something else. The way his tongue and mouth were lapping at your folds, focusing on your sensitive clit, the way his hands gripped your ass helping you to grind your core against his face, the way the stubble from his beard rubbed against your inner thighs had your stomach tightening with that familiar coil.

Dropping your legs from his shoulders he focused his mouth on your clit as he slipped two fingers into you, curling them _just so_ that they hit all the right spots. causing fireworks to burst behind your closed eyes. 

“I’m so close,” you panted, struggling to get those three simple words out.

“I know baby.” His words vibrated against your core. Thrusting your hips up against his face you groaned when he splayed his hand out across your stomach pinning you to the bed. “You gonna be my good girl and cum for me?”

It was unfair. So fucking unfair the way he could find your weaknesses and use them against you. 

It was unfair. So fucking unfair the way he kept asking you questions and demanding you answer them.

“ _Oh god_.” It wasn’t an answer, but it was going to have to do. Slamming your eyes shut you chanted yes over and over again until the word lost its meaning. Arching your back the coil in your stomach snapped when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Sweaty, exhausted, sensitive and satisfied it felt like you were floating on cloud nine as you climbed down from your release. 

Lifting his head up his beard glistened with your juices, his shirt stained with a mixture of his sweat and your release. Cheeks painted red, lips swollen, chest heaving Bucky Barnes was a vision. Licking his lower lip he hummed at the taste of you that lingered on his lips and tongue.

With the aftershocks of your release fading you expected him to unbind your wrists allowing you to finally undress him, to show him just how good he had made you feel. But once again Bucky had a different idea.

Half lidded eyes, tongue lazily swiping across his lower lip, fingers made quick work of undoing his zipper. Yanking down his pants and boxers only far enough to free his throbbing erection your mouth watered at the sight. 

The electricity you had felt earlier in the evening once again crackled above you when he began go stroke himself. You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person, but seeing his fist curled around his erection, listening to the wanton moans that he let go had you seeing red. You wanted to be the one to touch him, to make him feel good, wanted him to be moaning _your_ name instead of the generic fucks he was letting out. 

Breathy little pants, body squirming, itching to touch him, lipstick smeared you pouted up at him hoping it would appeal to him more than begging. When it didn’t you said, “Let me, _please_.”

A smirk appeared on his face, eyes twinkling, actions paused. Still dressed in his shirt, pants and boxers tugged down to his thighs allowing him enough room to settle between your sweaty and sticky thighs. “You’re not in a position to be giving orders, sweetheart,” he cooed. His nose brushed against your heated cheek, hand gripping your hip, head dropping into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking forward only enough to have his tip push past your slick lips. 

It wasn’t nearly enough to quench the desire and need flooding through your veins. Tilting your hips upwards you moaned in relief when he slammed the rest of the way into you, the stretch causing you to hiss. You wanted to dig your nails into his biceps as he pulled his hips back only to slam into you again, but you couldn’t and it drove you crazy, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“You like that don’t you, baby?” He grunted, fingers digging into your hip, mouth sucking a bruise into your neck as the bed creaked and groaned beneath your sweaty, moving bodies.

With each thrust his shirt rubbed against your sensitive nipples and your sweaty skin. You wanted to ask him to get undressed again, but the last time you had done so hadn’t gone over well and you really, _really_ didn’t want him to stop. Tilting your head to the side giving him more access for his lips to roam over your neck you lifted your hips up meeting his thrusts just like he showed you how to do your first time together. “ _Yes_ ,” you chanted in answer to his question. “It feels... oh god you feel so good, Bucky.” And he _did_. Without a condom you could feel every bump, every vein, every ridge of his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight, wet, heat.

“Y/N,” he moaned. Dragging his teeth across the newly formed bruises that littered your neck his hand slipped between your moving bodies, the pad of his thumb pressing down onto your bundle of nerves causing your hips to jerk up, your back to arch. 

Searching your lips out he kissed you deeply, shoving his tongue into your mouth as his hips continued to slam into yours with a force that left you craving more while struggling to catch your breath.

Eyes closed tightly, heat rushing to your cheeks and neck, wrists pushing up against the ties you were a mess lost in the pleasure of his kisses, his thrusts, the love that flowed between your two bodies that moved as one.

His voice was raspy when he spoke again. “Look at you. My good girl, takin’ me so well. You’re doin’ so good, honey, _fuck_.”

The praises that spilled from his lips, the words _good girl_ had your body keening and arching into his touch as your walls clenched around him. 

Looking at him through half lidded eyes you gasped when his thrusts turned harder hitting those spots deep inside you. The headboard slammed against your bedroom wall and you hoped your neighbors weren’t home to complain about the noise that you two were making. 

“That’s it, keep those eyes on me. Wanna see how good I’m makin’ you feel,” he grunted, each word punctuated with a hard thrust of his hips that left you gasping.

It didn’t take long for the coil to form in the pit of your stomach. Wrapping your legs around his waist the heels of your feet dug into his ass urging him closer, deeper, faster. His hand ran over your sweaty hair, his lips moving over yours hungrily, the pad of his thumb flicking against your clit.

“You’re gettin’ close aren’t you, sweetheart? Can feel you squeezin’ me so good. Gonna be a good girl and cum for me again?”

Heart thudding, coil tightening, voice lost, mind blank, your back arched one final time, breathy moans, silent pleas, walls clenching and you were gone. Floating six feet above your body the pleasure that rained down on you was intense, much more than the first orgasm he had gifted you. Your toes curled, your fingernails digging crescent moons into your palms. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled. “'M gonna cum, baby.”

A few more thrusts and his body was stiffening, low groans tumbling from his lips, his release coating your walls, running down your thighs. Collapsing on top of your sweaty and exhausted body you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his hair, to feel the muscles of his back beneath your fingertips anchoring you. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered. A myriad of unfamiliar emotions flooded through your exhausted body.

Working quickly to untie your bound wrists he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head, your body leaning into his, fingers itching to curl around his shirt to anchor yourself, but just as you reached out for him he was leaning away, climbing off the bed.

Panic swept through you. 

Sensing your distress he turned to you all soft eyed and gentle smiles looking for any way to settle you. “Gotta get you cleaned up,” he said, making sure to keep his voice soft. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

You wanted to tell him he didn’t _have_ to clean you up, you were fine going to bed dirty if it meant he wouldn’t leave, but he was gone before you could utter a syllable. 

“You okay?” His voice was soft when he appeared back in your room with a warm washcloth, a glass of ice water and a package of cookies. 

After cleaning you up he handed you the glass of water which you took, gulping half of it down before passing it back to him where he finished the rest off. 

Running a hand over your hair you slipped beneath the covers watching as he stripped off his shirt and pants before joining you. Resting your head on his chest you listened to the rhythmic sounds of his heartbeat that played in your ear, his unanswered question settling over you like a warm blanket.

“Everything feels really intense right now,” you mumbled. You knew it wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but it was the only one you could give. “I-I didn’t think it was gonna be like that.” Somehow throughout your lengthy conversation about the matter at hand neither of you had thought to bring up the emotions that would come _afterwards._

“I know, Y/N,” he cooed. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder he pulled you closer, his lips pressing a series of kisses to the top of your head. “But you did so good, sweetheart. ‘M serious and ‘m right here, okay? Not gonna leave you again.” 

Closing your eyes you surrendered to the warmth that spread through you at his words. A slow smile curled your lips up, exhaustion nipping at your body. A stretched moment of silence followed before you found the strength to speak up again, voice sleep tinged and a little shy. “I’ve never seen that side of you before, Bucky. It felt really good. I just... _god_ where did that come from?”

His own voice was equally sleepy when he murmured, “Told you I liked being in control.”

Curling closer to him you hummed in content. He had told you as much the first time you had hooked up, but you had never known that when he said he liked being in control he meant it like that. There were questions you wanted to ask him, parts of his history before you became a couple that you wanted to broach, but now wasn’t the time. Now all you wanted to do was stay wrapped up in his arms and fall asleep knowing that he had you and you were secure. “I like having you in control.” 

“Yeah? That mean you wanna try it again?”

The eagerness in his voice had you giggling against his chest. Opening your eyes you tilted your head up, your lips finding his in a ghost of a kiss. “I think so,” you said slowly before finding the strength to sound more sure in your answer. “I do. I just... maybe next time you could get undressed too.” You half expected him to tell you not to worry about that again, but when he chuckled, when his lips found yours again in a kiss that lingered you smiled.

“But we crossed two things off your list this way,” he mumbled, tongue swiping across your lip. 

Too tired to think, too lost in his kisses, in the way his fingers were stroking down your bare back in the way you liked best it took your brain far too long to try to understand what he was talking about. But when the lightbulb over your head went off you broke the kiss, your eyes narrowing in a playful manner. 

“It’s not _my_ list. This was supposed to be about both of us, remember?” Resting your head back on his chest you finished, “Besides you were supposed to the be one naked while I was dressed not the other way around.”

“But wasn’t it more fun this way?” The laughter in his voice had you smiling, had you silently agreeing to his words, had you eager to continue exploring the list if it meant everything would feel as good as it had tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	4. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning for the wedding has begun with choosing a color palette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's been 84 years since I've last updated and for that I am so so sorry!
> 
> I took what was supposed to be a short break to write That Summer, but the past few months have been a struggle and because of that I've been having having difficulty writing anything. I'm still struggling, but I am trying which is what counts I guess.
> 
> I haven't forgotten about Something New - there will be for sure one more part (possibly two more parts) to that, but in the meantime here is an update and again I am so sorry for how long these have been taking to get out!

"Black and yellow?"

"No."

"Purple, orange and black?"

" _No._ "

"Red, white and blue?"

"Bucky, no!" Laughing at his suggestions you playfully shoved his shoulder as he shot you a grin full of mischief. “Besides, I think those are more Steve's colors."

“You opposed to pastels?" His grin only widened when you wrinkled your nose in distaste. "Red and pink?"

“Red and pink isn't the worst idea you've had," you mused, a thought working its way into your mind as you eyed the mess that surrounded you. 

“Sweetheart-,” he started, but you silenced him with a look. 

Reaching for a bridal magazine, one of many that laid scattered across the floor of the living room where you were both currently seated you flipped through it while Bucky continued to rattle off suggestions. Frowning, you pushed it aside before grabbing another one. Finding what you were looking for you showed him a spread with dark reds and pinks and a gold that had the barest hint of a shimmer. It was for a Valentine’s Day wedding and while you weren’t getting married on that date you still thought it was pretty.

One look at his face told he wasn’t impressed.

"Neons would be better,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, his fingers flicking a brightly colored post it note that was sticking out from the magazine. 

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Maybe." 

“ _James_!”

And this time he was the first to laugh, the richness of his voice filling up the room and drowning out the sitcom dialogue that drifted from the television a few feet in front of you. 

He made it difficult at times like these to get and stay annoyed at him, but nevertheless you made an attempt with a glare shot in his direction. It was useless though when he was looking at you like _that_. All bright blue eyes shining with a love that still managed to steal your breath anytime he glanced at you. Laugh lines around his mouth and before you had a chance to warn him that he was seconds away from not having any say in your wedding colors he was tilting his body towards yours, lips landing on the side of your head. An innocent kiss, but it sent your heart spiraling. 

Almost as much as when he murmured against your skin with breath that was warm and smelled of the chocolate ice cream you’d been sharing, “Alright, show me what you were thinking.”

Waking up your sleeping laptop that rested on the coffee table you expertly navigated the rabbit hole of Pinterest. Scrolling past boards you had created for flowers and centerpiece ideas, dresses and cakes you found the one titled _colors_. 

A sea of palettes stared back at you; turquoises, magentas, oranges and yellows. Mints and whites. Pastel purples and soft pinks, creams and pale blues that screamed _romantic_. Greens and blushes. Purple and grays. 

And finally, towards the bottom of the board a mix of navy blues, grays and burgundy. Burnt oranges and peaches. Sunflower yellows and dusty blues. 

A collection of colors that reminded you of him. 

“Something like this I thought.” Chewing on your lower lip you glanced from Bucky to the screen and back again. Anticipation thrummed through your veins as you waited for him to say something. 

“It’s a lot of blues.”

“You look good in blue.”

“All the burgundy?”

“You also look _really_ good in burgundy.”

“You really picking colors based on how I look in them?”

“No,” you scoffed with a quick roll of your eyes that he saw right through. “Okay, fine, but it’s not the only reason.”

“You gonna share those other reasons?” He asked, leaning forward to take a closer look. 

"Um... I... like those colors?" Even to your own ears the words rang false. "And they're a better choice than the random ones you were shouting out." _There_ another reason added to your list. 

"Y/N," Bucky said, amusement dripped from his voice and he bit back a smile as he pushed the laptop towards the middle of the coffee table.

For a moment the only sound in the apartment was that of a commercial advertising pizza. 

Turning to you he cradled your face in his hands. "You know no ones gonna be looking at me," he said softly, the pad of his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. "They're all gonna be looking at you and how beautiful you are."

"I haven't found something to wear yet."

"Doesn't matter, sweetheart."

Biting your lip your eyes danced between his and you couldn't help asking, "What if I get a really poofy dress and I end up looking like a cupcake again?"

It was a struggle for Bucky not to laugh at the mention of a cupcake. A million memories ago, but he could still remember that night. Your fathers wedding to his new, younger bride, the hideous pink dress she had made you to wear, the endless teasing you had endured from him, the new nickname he had bestowed upon you before you banned him from ever calling you that again. In his mind it didn't matter if when your wedding came you wore a dress that made you look like a cupcake, drenched in pink that looked as if it came from a jumbo sized bottle of pepto-bismol you'd still be beautiful in his eyes.

Dipping his head down he brushed his lips against yours in a kiss sweeter than any cupcake he had ever tasted.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered again, his mouth moving over yours slowly. "You’re still gonna be the most beautiful person in the room, _cupcake_."

It was hard to kiss him back when your lips were curling up into a smile, a laugh bubbling to the surface followed by a rush of memories at the mention of _cupcake_. He hadn’t called you that in years and though you still hated it you didn’t have it in you right now to tell him to shove it. 

“Is that your way of telling me you hate my choices?” You asked, breathless from the feeling of his lips against yours.  
  
“No,” he laughed, stealing another kiss. “It’s my way of saying you should really give my suggestions another chance.” 

“Buc-,”

“I’m kidding!” 

Another kiss, this one to your forehead as the commercial ended and the sitcom returned. Turning your attentions back to the screen at the same time you rested your head on his shoulder, eyes scanning through the options again, his for the second time and yours for what felt like the hundredth since first compiling the list. 

“I really _do_ like these colors. Especially this one,” you said, bringing up a palette with dusty and navy blues, marigold and a hint of dark green. 

No matter how many options you had looked at you kept going back to it. It was pretty and it was an added bonus that he looked in most of those colors. 

“That the one you want?”

Biting your lip you switched back to your second choice. Navy blue, maroon and gray. More colors he looked good in, more colors that you had been drawn to, but in your heart you knew which one you wanted. 

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

“I like it,” he said.

“You agreed to that awfully quick.” Your tone was light and you couldn’t help asking, “Are you only saying that cause you’re tired of looking?” 

“No. ‘M saying it cause you like it.” His eyes darted down to the shiny engagement ring that sat pretty on your ring finger. Lifting his gaze up he continued, “And cause I don’t care about the colors.” 

No sooner did the words leave his mouth and he was left scrambling to explain when he saw your widened eyes.

“Sweetheart.” His hand slid along your cheek. “Whatever colors you choose are gonna be fine, but I’m not gonna be paying attention to them. Our friends and family might, but the only thing I’m gonna be paying attention to is you and how I’m finally marrying the woman of my dreams.” 

His words sunk in amid the closing credits of a sitcom and as tears welled in your eyes and your laptop drifted off to sleep the only words you could manage were a breathless, “Oh, Bucky.” 

You had never thought planning your wedding would be so emotional.

You kissed him softly, savoring the way his lips moved against yours in a practiced ease that still made your stomach fill with butterflies. Just as he was about to deepen the kiss you pulled back with a start and a flurry of questions.

“Wait, if you don’t care about this _why_ did we spend two hours looking and _why_ did you offer such awful suggestions?”

Bucky swallowed, his cheeks flushing deep pink. “You asked me to,” he said simply, before adding on as his cheeks turned even darker, “Maybe I wanted to make you laugh a bit.”

Mission accomplished. 

Parting your lips to speak he beat you to it saying, “I also wanted to spend time with you and I know how much planning this means to you.”

It felt as if your heart was going to burst right out of your chest. You didn’t know anyone who would willingly want to spend that much time going over colors, debating between two shades that were nearly identical when they could have been doing something they enjoyed. 

Searching for the words to tell him all of that you came up empty, settling with a simple, but true, "I love you, Bucky." 

Which you followed up with another sweet kiss, once again marveling at how lucky you were to be marrying him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
